Gold Dragon

Gold Dragon

  Brett P. S.

  Copyright © 2015 Brett P. S.

  All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER I – DRAGON SLAYER

  CHAPTER II – INTERROGATION

  CHAPTER III - HASTY RECOVERY

  CHAPTER IV – RETREAT

  CHAPTER V – CHANGE OF HEART

  Chapter I

  Dragon Slayer

  The scent of fresh blood hung thick in a cold winter’s air. Winds lashed against his scales as the human archers flung arrows at his breast, though the result was the same. Oak and steel shattered when their weapons struck him. His claws swept the ground and razed the soil, pushing back the armies and their advance with each stroke, but the humans didn’t stop following him through the forest. Their weapons tore through his wings and chipped at his golden scales. The great wurm Ghalthier knew no weakness until humankind began to hunt him.

  As a frigid arrow pieced his forehead, he reached up to grasp it, instead feeling something soft and warm. Ghalthier opened his eyes to rays of white and gold that flew in through a window above him, and the steady pulse of a heartbeat flowed through the forearm he gripped. He saw the silhouette of a young woman removing a damp rag from his face.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You’ve had quite a night.”

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re in Sahlden, a village at the border of the Great Eastern Kingdom.”

  The face took form as her silhouette changed to shades of tan and gray. The medicine woman continued her work as she spoke, lifting up his forearm to wipe off the cold sweat that built up over the hairs.

  “Why are you healing me?”

  “I think you may have taken a good blow to the head,” she replied. “Was the dragon fierce?”

  It was a good thing he arrived at the border. So many in the upper commands of the eastern and western armies knew his human form.

  “Do you think I fought him?”

  “Apologies, sir,” she said. “I only assumed. When my father found you, your hand was wrapped around some gold scales.”

  A dragon slayer, eh?

  “I see,” he said. “Yes, he was powerful, though he fled just the same.”

  “Did he come this way?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Then we need to send a message to the Eastern Kingdom.”

  Ghalthier sighed and looked away.

  “The dragon will not harm this village. I guarantee it.”

  “How can you be so sure?” she asked.

  “The armies of men outmatched him tenfold. The monster gave up the will to fight them.”

  “I don’t believe the elders will see it that way.”

  “Then let the armies come. They will find nothing.”

  More than anything else, that was to save face. The human armies were relentless in their search and if they did arrive, they would find him.

  “Get some rest, sir…um,” she said with a pause.

  “My name is Ghalthier of the Spire.”

  “Mine is Helena of Sahlden,” she replied. “My father and I are healers in the village, and I’ll be your caretaker until you recover.”

  Chapter II

  Interrogation

  Ghalthier couldn’t sleep through the night, his mind overrun with racing thoughts. Instead, he poured his concentration toward healing. His human form didn’t have much in the way of draconic energies, but the moment his body could function was the moment he could transform and fly far away from this place. The armies and their steel tore clean through his wings during his retreat, and though it was a gamble on his part to play this card, he found it quicker to heal in human form than draconic. Much less conspicuous as well, so long as the armies didn’t find him.

  A few more scales came off through the night, and he hid them earlier underneath his wrappings. Rays of white and gold beamed down toward his eyes from a window above and emblazoned the cottage with soft glow. Footsteps echoed across a wooden walkway just outside his room, and there were several of them.

  “He’s this way,” Helena said.

  She stepped into the cottage, followed by three men in thick robes and long gray beards who stared at him from across the room. Helena walked over and kneeled beside him. She reached out with the back of her hand and pressed it against his forehead.

  “He’s doing much better,” she said. “Keep your questions short.”

  “Who are these men?” he asked.

  Helena stood up and stepped back.

  “Sahlden’s elders. They make our laws, and they want to ask you some things.”

  “I see.”

  One of the men stepped forward. His head was bare, and his beard was thick and with fine gray slivers.

  “Helena tells me you fought the dragon. Is that true?”

  “I was close to it,” Ghalthier replied.

  “You tore off a handful of scales, then?” another elder asked.

  “I picked up some it left behind.”

  “So you’re a scavenger. Looking to make a quick bit of gold, eh?”

  “The scales mean nothing to me,” Ghalthier said. “You can have them if you like.”

  The human elders spoke amongst themselves for a moment or two through inaudible whispers. Their voices traveled across the stagnant air of the cottage and though he couldn’t make out words, the tension in the atmosphere grew thick. One of the elders stepped forward.

  “You weren’t fighting the dragon. You weren’t looking for gold. Explain then, what you were doing in our forests?”

  “Looking for a way out,” he said.

  After Ghalthier felt the words pass his lips, whispers erupted between the elders of Sahlden, and the expression on their faces told him all he needed to know. He was a deserter, though in the end, it didn’t matter what they labeled him. Let them send word. Once the armies arrived, his head would roll in the wake of one hundred marching footsteps.

  Chapter III

  Hasty Recovery

  A frigid winter breeze blew across Ghalthier’s face and tore at the pores of his rosy cheeks. His legs carried him from his bed and across the village, though the soreness of his muscles started to set in. A burning fire in the back of his legs made him drop to his knees. Ghalthier tried to catch himself, but his arms lacked the fortitude to do more than break his fall.

  This wasn’t good enough. If he transformed now, he’d never be able to fly away from this place. Even in his human form, he could feel his wings. The tears would eventually heal, though the scars might never. What manner of creature is human to do this to a force of nature? Does their arrogance know no bounds? Is their thirst never sated? Ghalthier laid back and stared at the sky. He missed it very much.

  “Ghalthier!” Moments later, two arms lifted his torso and cradled his head by the neck. Helena stared down at him from above. “What were you thinking?”

  “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  “You’re in no condition to travel in this weather. You’ll die before the morning sun.”

  “Is there a difference from what fate has in store for me?”

  Helena paused and looked up at the sky with him in a brief moment of silence while the winds blew around them. The rags of her robes sheltered them both from the cold, and the burning in his legs cooled down for now.

  “Our shaman says the storm gods will pass in a day or two.”

  “How much time do I have?” he asked.

  “Well, the elders sent a message to the capital midday today. It should take one day to arrive and two to march a garrison up here.”

  “Three days,” he said.

  “Correct.”

  Helena continued staring at the shifting clouds while Gh
althier probed her scarcely visible face for motive. It didn’t sit right with him. Her words sounded sincere enough, though he found humans difficult to read. Perhaps if he’d spent more time with them.

  “Why are you helping me?” he asked.

  “I believe you lied to the elders,” Helena said. “You aren’t a deserter.”

  “Isn’t a liar bad enough?”

  “You know something about the dragon, don’t you?”

  “Fair enough,” he said with a sigh. “I know where he’s hiding.”

  “Why didn’t you tell them?”

  “Unfortunately, if the dragon dies, then so do I.”

  Helena’s eyes lit up as she stared down at him. He wasn’t lying, though it tasted like one.

  “Did the dragon curse you?” she asked. “Was that why you didn’t want the armies to come?”

  “He twists the minds of men to survive. You should never trust a word from his mouth to be the truth.”

  “I don’t believe I’ll ever meet him,” she said, “but I’ll keep the thought close.”

  Chapter IV

  Retreat

  Ghalthier laid in bed for the next two days as he watched the solar bodies rise and fall. His human form went smoothly through the healing process, and he could feel the wings of his draconic form nearly whole. A matter of hours and he’d be well enough to take flight. A few more scales shifted from him each night, so he tucked them away underneath his wrappings. He made sure to hide them the last few times, so he found a floorboard and cracked it open. Hard wood sealed his stash of scales, a lump of gold that marked the end of his recovery.

  However, Ghalthier knew little about the humans except what he suffered from their steel. What he did know was how vicious the armies of the Great Eastern Kingdom could be. If he left without a sign, the armies could do terrible things in pursuit. He feared for those living here, which was a sentiment he didn’t understand.

  “You’re doing much better now,” Helena said as she walked in on him.

  “The storm gods have passed,” he replied, glancing out an open window.

  The blowing snow from yesterday stopped earlier this morning, and some patches of grass and dirt showed through the sparse white mounds. Forests surrounded the village of Sahlden, though his choice laid further to the west. Perhaps he could set his sights near the mountains. Few humans could make the trip, much less confront him.

  “Are you going to see him?” she asked.

  “In a manner of speaking. I fear I will not return as you know me, if at all.”

  “Do come back if you have the chance.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Here,” she said, handing him a satchel. “I packed you some rations and basic tools for the trip.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’d better be going,” she said. “It’s mid-day, and the soldiers will arrive early in the morning.”

  “When I meet the gold dragon, I will tell him of your kindness.”

  “Please don’t,” she replied with a smile.

  Ghalthier stepped out of the cottage and into a muddy street as he took his first steps in retreat. However, he didn’t get as far as crossing the road when a horn sounded from the edge of the village. The distant echoes of horse hooves patting into the mud and men shouting drove his legs still.

  Chapter V

  Change of Heart

  Ghalthier’s body froze in place at the sound of trampling hooves and shouting soldiers plowing through Sahlden with gilded tongues. He could run, but they were too close. If he took off, one of the soldiers would notice him fleeing. The men had their nerves high on alert as they rode through the village on stallions.

  “Come back inside,” Helena whispered.

  Ghalthier wanted to run as fast as his legs could carry him, but a human form was no match for horseback and he needed wings to fly. The soldiers rode closer as he stepped back. All the knowledge he had of men told him to risk it, but his human body did not allow it. He climbed back inside and slammed the door with his ears pressed against it. The hooves drew closer, stopping occasionally while the captain conversed with the village folk. It wouldn’t take much interrogation to find the newcomer.

  “I’m afraid this is the end for me,” Ghalthier said.

  “I can sneak you out another way.”

  “No. They’ll not stop until they find me.”

  He felt her hand lay on his shoulder as he gripped the door handle.

  “You’re no deserter, Ghalthier … and only one man.”

  “No, I’m more than that, Helena.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Three knocks drove against the old oak door, nearly enough to split it in two. Ghalthier peered out and saw five men on horseback waiting with their swords drawn.

  “You should never trust a word from his mouth to be the truth.”

  “I…” she said with a pause.

  “Look underneath the broken floorboard. I left something for you.”

  Ghalthier cracked open the cottage door and stepped back out into the mud. A captain of the eastern armies eyed him from the middle of the street, surrounded by five mounted soldiers. He grinned as he drew his sword, his fingers shaking as he did.

  “So, the great Ghalthier rests in Sahlden. You thought you could hide from us, didn’t you?”

  “If you are going to kill me, then do it now, before I change form.”

  “And leave your scales to rot? I think not,” the captain said with a forced chuckle.

  “You want to perish that badly?”

  “You have enough gold to move mountains if you only showed your true form.”

  Ghalthier scanned to the left and right. More troops moved in since then, at least fifty men by the look of it and a few more coming from around the bend. The king knew to send enough to finish the job he started, at least. Lust for gold was the driving force behind this conflict, not some threat from above. Ghalthier could chance it, though after contemplation, his gaze returned to the captain and he gestured something obscene.

  “I refuse.”

  The captain sheathed his sword.

  “A pity. Then we will take you and beat the scales out of you.”

  He motioned for his men to dismount, and he reached out with a hand to grab Ghalthier’s arm. Ghalthier pulled back, but the captain lunged forward and pressed him against the cottage wall by the neck. He stood firm, pressing Ghalthier’s head deep into the mixture of wood, soil and overgrown vines that ran up the sides. Ghalthier tried to free himself, but his arms lacked the strength to fend off the warrior. His eyes raced to find something with which to defend himself, but ultimately, they focused on one object.

  The pressure on his neck rising by the second, Ghalthier drove his arms downward by the captain’s waist to grab his sword by the hilt. A swift kick pushed the captain back far enough to draw it out, and without thinking, he skewered his core with the sharpened steel.

  “Gods! What have you done?” the captain shouted.

  Good, a mortal wound. Ghalthier felt his legs weaken as he fell to the ground and the back of his head planted itself into the soil. He stared upwards.

  “I go to the next world … where my wings will soar through the heavens.”